


Tastes Like Power

by JeanSouth



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Bloodplay, Bondage, Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-31
Updated: 2012-07-31
Packaged: 2017-11-11 03:10:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeanSouth/pseuds/JeanSouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is the king of Asgard, and Thor is his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tastes Like Power

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why. Loki tops. Those are two seperate statements.

Loki likes being back in Asgard, being king, being the one who orchestrated it all, and for once he doesn't feel less than Thor. All it takes is Thor on his bed, Thor tied to a headboard made of valerian steel.

The chains dig into his wrist when he squirms, rubbing them red and raw and sore. Loki's told him twice to stop it, but if he wants to keep making himself bleed by pure stubbornness, Loki isn't going to stop him. He's firmly of the opinion that people can take a situation and make it better or worse, so Thor is at fault completely.

The throbbing in his pants is uncomfortable though, tight and leather as they are to keep out the night time chill or the eternal chill of Jotunheim. He watches Thor, halfmad with frustration, jerking and tugging at the chains. A few drops of blood trickle down the length of his forearm, leaving a long red line. It'll heal by morning, Loki knows, unworried by the sight of it. It worries him when his arousal increases tenfold, though.

Loki can't help but take a few steps closer, wondering if Thor's blood would be dark with rage if he crouched between his thighs and took a tiny nip. Thor's thighs are as golden as the rest of him, thick with muscle and power, straining as he jerks around. The muscles tense and relax in turns, making Loki bite his tongue to keep from licking his lips.

Sweat drips down all over Thor from exertion, making his skin glisten in the low, almost friendly light. The lovely thick cock between his legs shifts and bobs with the rest of his body, drawing Loki's unwilling attention. Even chained up, Thor looks powerful. Loki hates it. He wants to take Thor, wants to frown at him and grab him by the throat and demand of him why he's so bloody noble all the time, why he's so good and righteous and lovely.

Without thinking he steps forward, one knee on the bed before his mind catches up with his body. His hand is on Thor's calf, and it feels hot, too hot under his fingers. Thor's eyes meet his, frowning and dominant and defiant. They irk, make Loki want to fix it. He continues onto the bed, keeping his ass in the air as he bends his mouth forward. He lets a tiny knife slip forward out of his sleeve - a last resort he's never had to use, but always there - and admires it from the corner of his eye.

Thor can't see him down here, he knows, so deep between his legs, and he's gone deathly still. It's a nice feeling, the feeling of letting Thor feel a sense of fear. He licks over Thor's inner thigh gently, nipping at the soft skin gently. He gets a gasp, and a twitch from the cock so near his face. Loki smirks, blowing on it to get another twitch, Thor's thighs tensing. They really are magnificent, he thinks when he trails his fingers over the inside of them, butterfly light.

It's a gentle, slow process, teasing Thor into trembling hardness with barely-there touches and light, slow kisses. It makes it even more satisfying for Loki when he gets to make a little cut dragging a finger through it in fascination. A faint hiss sounds from the direction of Thor's mouth, but Loki is disinterested in other parts of his body. The blood is red, red, red, and drips out sluggishly when he pulls the small cut apart with his fingers. Something inside him trills with excitement that Thor's still hard, that his cock's still dripping.

Loki takes pleasure in watching Thor buck into his hand when he digs the fingers of his other into the cut, bringing both pleasure and pain, confusing his senses. Thor is so easily led, he muses for a second, leaning into taste Thor's soft skin now it's all painted that slick, bright red.

"Stop," Thor pleads with him for a moment, sounding insincere and denied by how hard his cock is, by how lustful and hot his eyes are when they look into Loki's. He whimpers - whimpers, Loki silently gloats - when his nipples are bitten softly, and a tiny, delicious cut follows narrowly underneath one. Red suits Thor.

Thor's rooms are a pain to find anything in, Loki learns two seconds later when he gets off the bed to find lube, and Thor's harsh, panting breath seems to haunt him throughout the room, through every draw he pulls open with an air of anger, when he cuts himself by accident, the knife forgotten when he sucked a drop of blood from Thor's chest and trailed it down his treasure trail like art.

He settles on the oils Thor uses to clean Mjolnir, eventually. It's slick, and unscented, and just what he needs. The bottle is well over halffull, but he doesn't want much anyway. It has to sting and burn and even hurt a little, make Thor center only on him and the ache. His world has to revolve around Loki until Loki decides to let him go.

Before he settles in, Loki opens the cut on Thor's precious, sweet, succulent skin a little wider biting his lip to keep from biting it instead. The oil is slick all over his fingers, and it doesn't mix well with the blood when he rubs his fingers on it, leaving streaky marks all over the golden skin. He can get used to this, he thinks. His fingers have to be pushed in rather than slid, and Thor makes uncomfortable noises, sliding against the ruined sheets. His ass clenches around Loki's fingers, making him rub against the sheets in hope of relieving the need Thor inspires in him.

The resistance feels like a challenge, so he twists his fingers, drawing his tongue in little patterns over Thor's balls in a completely new rhythm until he gives in, gives up and loosens enough for Loki to add a third and cram in a fourth, fingerfucking him to his heart's content. Thor's greedy, horribly horny and needy, and it feels victory. When he says as much, Thor yanks harder on the chains to no avail.

Loki can't help but slide up Thor's body, undoing the multitude of hidden fastening on his armour and rutting up against him. It feels even better to be able to rub against it than it did to taste it, setting his nerves on fire, clouding his head. In a moment without thinking, he kisses Thor, biting at his lip and pulling at it, kissing as if it'll kill him to stop. When he notices his actions, Thor's kissing him back with as much enthusiasm as he's giving.

He thanks all the gods besides him that don't exist that he's almost as tall as Thor is, pulling back to slick his cock minimally, lining up and sliding home inside Thor. When Thor throws his head back, his jaw clenches and the vein in his neck pulses, and there's no way anyone could resist leaning forward to nip at it, sucking up a bruise on the eager skin.

There's nothing to do but thrust and rut and fuck while Loki slowly loses his sanity listening to Thor plead for it harder, faster, deeper, when he wants more of everything Loki thinks to give him, wants to join in and contribute and drive Loki deeper into himself, but he can't. It's fascinating when he lets out a deep cry, holding onto the chains while he pulls on them, hands sliding on the bloodslick metal.

Loki comes eventually when Thor bites his lip until it bleeds, leaning in to lick up and kiss the blood all over his face, tremors stealing his body to draw him into orgasm, forcing Thor over the edge with his frantic, quick thrusts. It feels better than he ever has before, complete and good and sated. Thor has stopped struggling, gone limp from exhausted pleasure, head tipped to one side. They've ruined the bed, destroyed all hope of saving it even with magic.

He settles in next to Thor, head on the clean pillow, fingers tracing back and forth over the cut on Thor's chest. Yes, he agrees to himself. He feels like the king of Asgard.


End file.
